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(Linkage via firinel.)

I turned my back on the dryer for ten seconds, and...



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April has decided that the Best Place Ever to play with her mousie is under my desk chair. I pick it up and throw it into the next room, and she brings it back and engages in more under-chair ass-kicking.

She gets her second set of baby shots tomorrow, and an ultrasound of her heart and other major organs, since they were not growing quite as quickly as they should have been. Her heart and lungs, in particular, seemed to be a bit undersized, and she was having some issues with overtiring and panting and generally not being able to physically keep up with her typically energetic kitteny ambitions to wreak utter havoc. Those symptoms seem to have diminished to non-existence, although there was a very real chance there for a while that she would have some serious issues to deal with. She's actually a bit of a shrimp for 15 weeks, but that's okay. As long as she's healthy, I don't care HOW tiny she is.

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The kitten is becoming far more interested in exploring her world vertically. Just this morning, she has vertically explored my floor-length cotton dress, the BF's white dress shirt, and his bath robe--not to mention leaping onto the side of the bed to grab onto the bedclothes and pull herself up there to frolic in the throw pillows.

She's ridiculously cute, but I think she's outgrown her playpen and baby toys and it's time we built a climbing pole with a platform at the top. If I carpet it in a neutral color, I can get away with one in the bedroom near where the final CatGenie will be installed.

The latest bit of cat-related construction will be on the stairs, and will involve running a ramp up the right-hand side of the steps, under the handrail. (My grandmother was disabled for most of her life, so my grandfather put in a second handrail that there would be one on each side.) The ramp will extend to the landing, and then a shorter ramp will go up to the top of the last few steps. It will just be a board, stained to match the stairs and held in place with a couple brackets that will be hidden under the steps so as not to ruin the woodwork. I'm going to finish it off by buying a few of those rubberized stair treads and using them longwise, running them up the boards so that the cats get some additional traction. I'm planning to use the heavy-duty outdoor kind so they last longer and hold up to any potential clawing. I considered carpet, but: A.) they would sharpen their claws on it and it wold look awful in a matter of weeks, and B.) I have done away with almost every last rug and carpet in the house, and I want to keep it that way.

Also drawing up plans to build a new mudroom, but that is for another post, as I plan to solicit some opinions from you lot.

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Via kradical: Bikers Rescue Kittens.

(And if you're curious about the bikers' organization, here's Rescue Ink's home page, complete with pit bulls. Fantastic.)

(To clarify: the quote in the subject line was printed on little business cards that some of the Hell's Angels gave to stranded motorists after they helped them get back on the road. The card would also specify the chapter that the Angel or Angels in question belonged to.)

Mr. Moo likes the fountain that TBD got him for Xmas.

(He has not put any colored mice in it. Yet.)

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(Oh! Forgot to mention--photo was taken with the iPhone app Moonlighter. It makes for steadier shots and is designed to work well in low-light situations.)

The Christmas tree remains mostly unmolested by the resident felines, although Moo *did* take the opportunity to explore it vertically after his Squooshy Mouse became lodged in it. (Due to a rather enthusiastic toss in the air on Moo's part.) Of course, Moo was obligated to mount a rescue operation to extract Squooshy from the tree. This involved wedging himself between the lower branches in an attempt to scale it ladder-fashion. The resulting treequake shook Squooshy free, but did not do much to get Moo out. (I had to extract him myself.) Now that he's spent the better part of two days trying to lick the sap out of his fur, I doubt he's going to try it again.

Sadly, I imagine I won't be able to prevent them from playing Godzilla with the train set. Every cat my family has ever owned has treated the trainboard and its little plastic houses like fucking Tokyo.

The mantle has been decorated with a garland of holly and one of those dead-common light-up ceramic Christmas trees. My aunt made this one, if I'm not mistaken.

I have a god bow for the top of the tree, and matching ribbon to use in lieu of tinsel (since tinsel is death to cats). I still need to get some of those lovely little zero-heat LED tree lights....

I was awakened at the ungodly hour of 4:30am by the sound of mousie death. Pooky had captured a mouse, and then--bless his little heart--he took it into the bathtub to kill it, making it much easier to clean up the mess. Unfortunately, he's a bit of a gourmet, and mouse ass is not on his menu. To that end, he chews their tasty little heads off and leaves the ass behind. This means I had a mouse ass to clean out of the tub, along with all the other bits of whatsit one would typically associate with a small-scale evisceration.

(Note to self: When at the grocery, buy more Clorox Clean-Up w/Bleach. Blood really stains porous, old porcelain enamel.)

By the time I'd praised the Mighty Hunter and cleaned up the carcass, I was wide awake with no hope of returning to sleep any time soon. Making the best of it, I stripped the bed, hauled it all downstairs, and have now washed and dried all the bedding. While the washing was going on, I folded some laundry, fooled around with PackRat, and peeled and chopped a couple of butternut squash and made a pot of soup.

The soup will be ready to puree in a bit. Once it's cooling, I'll head upstairs to vacuum the mattress and make up the bed. Then, more packing up of downstairs stuff in preparation for the Floorening, which begins tomorrow.

I fear it. As much as I am looking forward to the result, I fear it.

Eh. We'll see how it goes.

The CatGenie is up and running. It was a PITA to hook up, but *only* because my antiquated faucets decided that since they were comprised almost entirely of rust, they should really be replaced. So--temporary cold water faucet is hooked up and permanent faucets are on order from the company that made the taps and whatnot that the BF installed when he put the shower conversion kit on the clawfoot tub.

I ran a test cycle first thing. It definitely takes a while--over 20 minutes, in fact. One would hope that the cat wouldn't have a sudden, urgent need to go during that time, but I plan to buy a second unit and set it to clean on an entirely different cycle than the unit upstairs, thereby ensuring that the cats will always have one usable litter box.

I tried the two-litterboxes method for acclimation, whereby one sets up a standard litter box right next to the CatGenie. Most cats will use the new box instinctively (which has been the case with my guys) and some will even use the CatGenie right off. (In this case, I am reasonably sure that Mr. Moo was the one to.... Well, let's just say that he christened it.) The idea is to leave the standard pan there, but to stop cleaning it at some point. It will get grosser and grosser, but the CatGenie will stay nice and clean, and will therefore become more appealing than the standard pan.

We did have a "moment" wherein I accidentally started the cleaning cycle with the cats in the room. I stopped it immediately, but they were all on high alert for the next 15 minutes, or so, and it took a while before Blair got up the nerve to approach the unit and examine it. I'm definitely going to have to run it on manual for a while after chasing them all out of the room--just until they're comfortable with it. The last thing I need is for them to end up terrified if they should catch it during a cleaning cycle.

That said, I come bearing coupons! If any of you guys decide to buy a CatGenie, use this code: F10138 and you'll save $30 off the already-discounted Tabby package. (Not good for the Tux package, though.) If you like your CatGenie, I'll get a coupon for $30 off my next order of CatGenie supplies. If you refer someone who buys a unit, they will also save $30, and you'll be eligible to save $30 on supplies. So, yay!

(I'll certainly make some CatGenie updates, as events warrant.)

Stanley is a Bengal mix. He's very demanding vocal, hyperactive, destructive inquisitive, stubborn determined, and generally a holy terror.

Not *every* cat or kitten with "the wobbles" has cerebellar hypoplasia (which is caused by in-utero exposure to feline distemper virus). Other illnesses can cause the same physical symptoms. BUT, cats with the disorder live perfectly long, happy lives and require no special care. And as far as I know, they're no more prone to illness than neurotypical cats.

(Personally, I find his wobbly little walk quite charming.)

Here are a couple other cats like Charley.





Dogs can have the disorder, as well. They, too, make spectacular (if uncoordinated) pets.

In retrospect, I think the worst part was actually the pre-vacuum cat-wrangling.

Also--I hate sweating unless sex is involved. There was no sex involved. I must, must shower again.

...whose furry friends rarely hesitate to piss on a collapsed paper bag?

Shedding bastards.

In between bouts of futzing on LJ, I've filled the bath with hot water and Lysol and soaked all the weasel toys, scrubbed them off, and will rinse them off when the tub drains. Also sorted two bags of unused stuff out of The Room That Is Going To Be My Closet and took them out to the trash. I'll do two more bags in the next couple of hours, put the weasel toys on towels to dry, and break down/throw out the huge cardboard shipping box I'd given to the cats. They've been playing in it for a couple of days, but it really needs to go out with tomorrow's trash--it's taking up half the dinging room floor.

Breakfast was enjoyed promptly at 8am, next door at my parents' house. It was typical Sunday-breakfast fare save the coffee, which was just a teensy cut above turpentine since my father had just run out of the good stuff.

Opened presents after. I gave my father a wheeled stool/tool cart to sit on while he works in the shop. We assembled it beforehand, so I just wrapped the seat and stuck a bow on it. Also gave him some gadgetry for the shop and his truck, as well as another year of monthly Boca Java coffee deliveries. (Ocean Drive is absolutely the best everyday coffee I have ever had.)

My mother wanted an authentic German garden gnome. I got her one on eBay. I locked it in a cupboard every night before giving it to her because I didn't want the nasty little fucker roaming around the house in the wee hours. I'm glad to be rid of it.

Also gave her a huge scented jar candle, a datebook, a pen set, and some miscellaneous stocking stuffers.

She gave my father a HUGE flatscreen LCD monitor for his computer. It's large enough that he made the display size half again as large as it was on the old display, and he still has the same amount of screen real estate. kit_kallisti hooked it up for him before we left since he wasn't up to getting under the desk, just yet.

The 'rents spent far too much money on us. There should be a decent-sized HDTV sitting here in the living room by tomorrow night. I'm going to move the current TV (which is a respectable 27" as it is) into the bedroom to replace the 18" that is in there now.

After breakfast and present-opening we came back here, got some coffee brewing to get rid of the taste of the turps we drank at breakfast, and gave Autumn and the cats their gifts. Autumn got a HUGE BusyBone. The package said it was supposed to last at least 1 hour, but Autumn nuked it in 45 minutes. The cats got a package of furry mice.

Dinner was pleasant enough, despite my grandfather's typically curmudgeonly behavior. However, he didn't refuse to eat the mashed potatoes this time around--he shunned the cookie tray I made, instead. :P

We returned home once again to slob around and watch one of our traditional Christmas specials: A Christmassy Ted. We'd watched the BlackAdder's Christmas Carol last night.

Oh, and this past Sunday, I went to see Sweeney Todd with TBD and cearbhaill. It was *very* good, and we all enjoyed it.

Best Christmas story I've read all week, complete with adorable kitten pics and a happy ending. (Or beginning, depending on how you view such things.)

One of our cats, Stanley, goes through bi-weekly phases wherein he is *incredibly* demanding. He purrs loudly, walks all over us, head-butts our faces and wants attention right that second--and if he doesn't get it, he will do very naughty things until we drop whatever we're doing and Pay Attention to Him.

After about 15 minutes of this behavior, I said, "Damn if he isn't an intense little cat."

To which kit_kallisti replied, "Life with the Repo Stan is always intense."